A Christmas Carol CSI
by sparrowxo
Summary: What happens if your name is Conrad Ecklie and you hate Christmas for the Crime Rates? What happens if Grissom gets sneaky... Find out in the CSI version of Charles Dicken's a Christmas Carol! R&R! :
1. The Ghost of Jacob Marley

**A Christmas Carol**

_Some characters seem to be very out of character. I'm sorry. That's only because they needed to fit the characters in the real story…Oh, yes, true indeed: sometimes it's very, VERY old British English. Sorry for that!  
I hope we all remember Judge Cohen. He was that sneaky bastard of a Judge that tried to get Warrick do some bets for him. Well, in this story, he's dead. Hooray?_  
_This is the CSI version of a Christmas Carol. There might be many mistakes and unreality in it, but in the end: it's all about the thought. Well a very joyful Christmas!_

_**Chapter One**_  
**The Ghost of Judge Cohen **

Once upon a time – of all good days in the year on Christmas Eve – 'old' and bald Ecklie sat busy in his office. Outside it was cold and bleak for Vegas. It was quite dark already, but that was about time after 8 pm.  
He was watching his clerk, Judy, doing his paperwork while he was making some phone calls. The air-conditioning in his office was nearly on, making the temperatures almost unbearable.

'Ah, a merry Christmas, Mr. Ecklie! May there be less crimes,' It was the voice of Gil Grissom, who came upon him so fast, that it was almost unnoticed.

'Merry Christmas, humbug,' Ecklie said as he continued looking up some numbers.

'Christmas a _humbug_, Conrad? You don't mean any of that, I am sure.' Grissom said, sounding pretty amused.

'I do, Gil, I do. There is no reason to be merry. All the crimes rates keep growing. You'll be busy enough with Christmas.'

'On the contrary, what reason you have to be dismal? What reason do you have to complain? All you do is sitting in your office.' Grissom raised his eyebrow.

'Humbug,' Ecklie said as he putted down the book he had in his hands.

'Is humbug your new complaining word? Don't be so cross, Conrad.'

'What do you expect me to say instead? Crime rates? I'll say that from now on,' Ecklie's voice was rather calm, 'What else can I be then cross if I live in a world of fools as this? _Merry Christmas_! Out on a Merry Christmas. What's Christmas time for you when the crime rates go up? A time for finding yourself a year older, but the rates will not go down. Who goes about with 'Merry Christmas' on his lips in this lab should get suspended without paid leave!'

'Conrad.'

'Gil, keep Christmas in your own way with your bugs and Miss Sidle, and let me keep it in mine…'

'Keep it? But you don't.'

'Then let me leave it alone. Every year it's the same. Much good may all deaths do you. What good has it ever done you?'

'There are many things from which I might have gotten something good, but by which I have not profited, I dare say. But still. Christmas among the rest. God bless it.'

'What a strong words for someone who does not believe in a religion.'

'I think you should know me better. I believe there is something.' Grissom paused, 'Come. Dine with my team, be a person for once.'

'Crime rates, Gil. I hardly think there is any time.'

'I am sorry for you that you have to be this way, Conrad. Good day.'

'Good day, Gil.'

As Grissom left, he did stop to greet Judy who apparently _was_ in the Christmas mood already with her woolen Christmas sweater.

_As the shift ended, Ecklie got on his way too home. He was just on his way to the parking lot, as he slipped. He fell, and noticed everything got blurry, really fast…_

There he was. Walking down the old Vegas ala London style streets. People greeted him with a Merry Christmas, but he just blankly ignored them. '_Nothing merry about Crime rates at all,' _he thought.

He walked towards the chambers he lived in. It had belonged to the former Assistant Lab Director, who had died of an sad, sad accident. Murder had been overruled. The chambers were a gloomy suite of rooms in a lowering pile of building up a yard, dreary enough, for nobody lived in it but Conrad Ecklie; the other rooms being all let out as offices.  
The yard was so dark that even Ecklie, who knew it's every stone, was fain to grope with his hands. Now, it is a fact, that there was nothing at all particular about the knocker on the door, expect that it was very large. It is also a fact that Ecklie had even less fantasy then a purple mouse could have. And those don't exist, so do the calculation.  
But even he found it strange to see a face appear on the knocker.

'What?! Judge Cohen!'

It indeed was Judge Cohen's face that had appeared. It was not angry of ferocious, but looked at Ecklie as Judge Cohen used to look with ghostly spectacles turned upon it's ghostly forehead. The hair was curiously stirred as if by breath or hot air… and though the eyes were wide open, they were perfectly motionless.

'Judge Cohen?'

Ecklie looked fixedly at this phenomenon. It was a knocker again.

'Humbug… Ehr, crime rates…'

He thought of the incident as he got inside and walked to his kitchen. He made an melancholy dinner and ate it all alone while reading the newspaper. The lights in his home were pretty dimmed, but he liked it that way and it was less expensive. He thought about what Gil had said, and then got up as he lay away the newspaper and got to his room. He putted on his striped PJ's and wanted to lay down, when he heard an noise.  
Every bell in the house started to ring. The bells ceased as they had begun. Then… Ecklie rememberd to have heard that ghosts in haunted houses were described as dragging chains. The cellar door flew open and then…

Ecklie yelled, 'Crime rates!'

The same face, the very same face, appeared. Judge Cohen in his prison clothing. The chain he drew was clasped about his middle. It was long and wound about him like a tail and it was made, for Ecklie observed it closely, of cash boxes, keys, padlocks, ledgers, deeds and heavy purses wrought in steel. His body was transparent.

'Now, now what do you want with me?' Ecklie asked, eyes widened as he saw this before him. He _must_ be dreaming.

'So much, Conrad Ecklie, and so less time!' Judge Cohen responded.

'Who are you?' Ecklie asked, trying the phantom in front of him out.

'Ask me who I was,'

'Who were you then, you are particular for a shade,' Ecklie said, actually sounding pretty sarcastic.

'In my life, I was some kind of your partner. Judge Cohen.' The ghost answered so calmly back that Ecklie shivered.

'Can you sit down?' he hesitated asking that, but still he did.

'I can.'

'Do it then.' You could hear the firm in his voice.

'You don't believe me?'

'I don't.'

'Why do you doubt your senses, Ecklie?'

Ecklie had to think a little bit, but when he responded the sentences were clear, as if he had practiced saying them in his head. 'Because a little thing affects them, a slight disorder of the stomach makes them cheat. You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of an underdone potato. There is more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are! Crime rates, I tell you, crime rates!'

'Ah, still mocking about the crime rates, aren't you?'

'Yes. Give me a reason, not why. Why do you trouble me?'

'Do you believe in me, or not?'

'I do, I must. Why do you come to me?'

'Because after all these years you're still mocking about the crime rates instead of doing what I told you. To have a merry Christmas indeed. You still don't get that the crime lab only works better if you stop being an ass that kisses other people's asses?'

'But it worked for you,'

'Oh has it? Look how I ended up! You will end the same if you don't change! I am here tonight to warn you that you have yet a chance and hope of escaping my fate. A chance and hope of my procuring, Conrad.'

'Don't try to spook me.'

'You will be haunted by three spirits.'

'I'd rather not.'

'Without their visits you cannot hope to shun the path I tread. I always believed in crime rates also and I never knew fun. All I did was ass kissing and I ended up adding my own part to the crime rates. Expect the first tomorrow when the first bell tolls one!'

'What are you saying? You did kill the officer? I always kept believing you didn't. Couldn't I take all them phantoms at once, and have it over, Judge Cohen?'

'Expect the second on the next night at the same hour. The third upon the next night when the last stroke of twelve has ceased to vibrate.'

'Crime rates!'

'Look to see me no more,'

'Crime rates, Judge Cohen, I'm way too busy to meet your phantoms! Crime rates!'

The spectre walked backwards from him, saying no more, and at every step it took, the window raised itself a little, so that when the spectre reached it, it was wide open. It wanted to let itself fly out gently, but instead it tripped over shoe and it fell hardly out of the window leaving a hard smacking sound… _When Ecklie found this more weird, he suddenly heard voices and names._

'Greg!' it was the voice of Sara Sidle.

'Whát? I didn't mean to let the box with samples of Grissom's bugs experiments fall on the ground…' he said, but he mumbled the last part, _'thát hard…'_

Grissom just looked at the both of them and raised his eyebrow. Then he looked back at Ecklie. 'I think he's waking up.'

'That was about time,' Catherine said.

'Grrumble, Humbug…,' Ecklie muttered. Ecklie tried to sit up straight immediately but noticed he hurt his head by doing so as a head ache increased. He looked around in search for a ghost, while the others just looked at him as if he had turned insane.

'Lost something, Conrad?' Grissom asked, sounding amused.

'Yes.' Ecklie snapped, 'My mind!' he got up and did an attempt to walk away, which, lucky for him, worked out immediately.

Grissom just smirked.

'Are you just letting him go?' Sara asked, obviously wondered.

'Yes.'

'Why? Is he going to be fine?' Greg now asked.

'More than fine. I think he will have some nice dreams tonight, waking up with a total different perspective.'

And as the two CSI-ers looked surprised at their supervisor, he just smirked.

---------  
_Do tell me, how to ruin a __**perfect**__ Christmas story? This ís a bit different then how I __**wanted**__ it to turn out, actually. But I still pretty much like it. _

Anyways. This is probably going to have three more chapters (three phantoms!), maybe four. If you're going to read them all, I shall wish you good luck.

Reviews are more than welcome!

- SzmandaEads 


	2. The Ghost of Christmas Past

**2**_**  
A Christmas Carol**___

Oewh, it's chapter two! Thanks for the ones who added this on a Story Alert, you know who I mean ;) !  
Not much to say, only that I hope you'll enjoy this chapter as much as chapter one.

Though I warn. This chapter is more.. sad. Pretty sad. You actually will 'find out' why Ecklie is so… bitter about Christmas Eve and it's crime rates. I'll try to get the others.. more… joyful… 

Enjoy…!

-----  
When Ecklie arrived at home he immediately went for his bed as his head ache still didn't decrease. He lay down and he heard the bell of the clock in the living room strike one.

He remembered his, what he thought it was, dream. He thought about it. Wasn't he told that he would get a visit by a spirit when the bells stroked one?

'All Crime Rates… Ridiculous. I _almost_ fell for it … AH! Good gracious!' Ecklie, who did an attempt to get in a half recumbent attitude, found himself face to face with the unearthly visitor, who drew near as close to it as I am now to you and I am standing in the spirit at your elbow.

'A-Are you the spirit, sir, whose coming was foretold me?' Ecklie's voice sounded fulfilled with angst.

'I am.' the spirit responded. It was a strange figure, like a child, yet not so like a child as like an old woman, diminished to a child's proportions- oh cut the crap, the ghost just tried to get that look. It more looked a suspicious lot like … Mandy together with… Wendy.

'Who and what are you?'

'We are the ghost of Christmas Past.' The Mandy said.

'Long Past..?'

'No, your past. What else did you expect? Rise and walk with me.' The Wendy said.

'I'm sure there's nothing important in my past.'

'There must be, otherwise you wouldn't still be stuck at the Crime Rates on Christmas Eve as **usual**.' They both said.

_Let's just say that, every time this ghost say a line, Mandy and Wendy say it together, until pointed out differently, shall we? _

The Ghost of Christmas Past – Mandy - stuck out its hand. The grasp, though as gentle as a woman's hand was not to be resisted. He rose, but finding that the spirit that the spirit made towards the windows clasped his robe in supplication.

'Ghost, or Ghosts, I am a mortal. I am liable to fall.'

The spirit-Wendy- laid his hand upon his heart, 'Bear but a touch of my hand there and you shall be upheld in more than this. Let's join the fun time,' 

As the words were spoken, they passed through the wall and stepped in something that seemed to be an time-tunnel. All kinds of different lights flew around them as if they were little orbs, but when Ecklie looked closer he saw that it were all little parts of his life. He saw himself as a little kid_- 'how adorable!' according to Mandy-_ under a Christmas tree opening up his presents, as a teenager who tried to give some girl a Christmas present _–'What were you actually giving?'-,_ as an young adult who studied too hard to care to go too his family for Christmas _– 'That wás a bit selfish, don't you think?'-,_ and as he tried to focus on another 'orb', he noticed it came closer. 

Suddenly they stood in an hallway where it seemed to be cold. At least, for the time of the year the atmosphere was cold, and dark, while there were many lights in the place itself. You could hear some talking coming out of one of the rooms. They walked into that exact room.

_'Conrad, please, just tell them you can't come to work, ' the voice of a woman said._

'Mother, I'm sorry.' a young Conrad Ecklie said, as he pulled his hand out of hers, 'I'm afraid I have no other choice.'

'But your father-,'

'He'll be fine.'

'For Earths sake, why are you leaving us on Christmas eve.'

'Because Christmas is one of those holidays where the crime rates go up. Not all the families are as happy as ours,' though he meant every word, he sounded pretty sarcastic. 

'Ghosts, why are you showing me this? It has no use, I have seen it too many already. Please stop.'

'We can't stop showing this, it is important for you to re-see this.' They said.

'I was a fool. I never should have left.' Ecklie looked at the younger version of himself, 'You fool, _stay _with your family!'

'He can't hear you.' Wendy looked serious, but Mandy actually started to giggle.

'I see he can't. Stop it,'

'Silence, I'm trying to listen to this.' And as the Wendy ghost said that, she raised her hand and Ecklie indeed became silenced. It was as if a spell was put down on Ecklie's mouth as he could not say a word more. Mandy giggled, once again.

_'Tell father I'll be back as soon as shift ends. I love you, mother.' The younger Ecklie gave a kiss on his mothers forehead and walked away. He waved before he totally left. His mother looked at him before returning to the room where an man lay in a hospital bed, around the age of 58._

'I demand you to bring me back,'

'I can't, Conrad. You'll have to face your mistakes.' Wendy said, still serious. 'Though, I must be honest. I like it that you're finally showing your emotional part.'

And as she said this, his former self turned to wish and again Ecklie saw himself.

_He was a bit older now; a man in the prime of his life. His face had not the harsh and rigid lines of later years: but it had begun to wear the signs of care and avarice. He was at a grave yard, but he was not alone. There was a woman standing next to him, holding his arm. She had tears in her eyes.  
'It matters little to you; very little. Another idol has displaced me, as so had it replaced your father; and if it can cheer and comfort you in the time to come, as I would have tried to do, I have no just cause to grieve.'___

'What idol has displaced you?'

'A dead one.'

'A dead one?'

'You call being a CSI a living job?'

'Not totally. Why are you saying that it has replaced you?'

'You're going away to work late on Christmas eve, again-…'

_'We have Crime Rates that grow every year, my love.'_

_'Just like you did the night your father passed away. You never had the change to say goodbye.'_

Mandy couldn't help herself. 'You had more hair when you were younger! Wow, you look like you just came walking out of the 70's! What happened to all that hair..?'  
_  
_Trying to ignore what Mandy said, but still giving her a pissed look, Ecklie felt the urge to yell at the fool he was. _Don't leave her, stay with her, protect her,_ he thought. But he knew yelling wouldn't change a thing. It would all end the same. His father would still be laying in his grave, and his one and only true love would get killed that certain evening they had that conversation. If he just had cared less about those damn Crime Rates.

'Stupid Crime Rates…' Ecklie said to himself, loud.

'What did you say?'

'Nothing, nothing.'

'Are you getting the point, Conrad?'

'No, leave me, take me back.'

And before he knew, he was back in his room. He sat on his bed. The Ghosts of Christmas Past looked at him, while he only looked to the floor.

'Let me give you some advice, Conrad.' The Wendy ghost's voice sounded strict. 

'Tell me and then stop haunting me, I order you to leave.' Ecklie finally looked up.

_'Stop kissing asses.'_ They both said, and the ghosts left.

Awaking and sitting up in bed to get his thoughts together, Ecklie had no occasion to be told that the bell was again on the stroke of one….

---  
_So.. Please tell me your opinion, I really appreciate that!_

Yes, I know, Ecklie said he DIVORCED his wife. But this is called a FanFiction, fans.

Woot, How did you find it that Mandy and Wendy were this ghost together? I have no idea who will be the next ghost, but you'll find out soon enough.

_Review?_


	3. The Ghost of Christmas Present

_3  
__**A Christmas Carol**_

I hope you guys like this ghost as much as I do. In the real story, this is partly one of my favorite ghosts, so that's why I have my favorite 'hate-friendship' pairing as it.

Probably just one chapter to go to finish this story AFTER this one, which will be probably updated later tonight.

Enjoy it, as much as I enjoyed writing it on this Christmas day.

------------

Awaking and sitting up in bed to get his thoughts together, Ecklie had no occasion to be told that the bell was again on the stroke of one… 

When he was calm, he decided to lay down again. He knew there had to be coming another ghost, as it happened before, and he was more than ready for a good broad field of strange appearances, and nothing between a baby and a rhinoceros would have astonished him very much. A blaze of reddish light streamed upon his bed more alarming than a dozen ghosts, as he was powerless to make out what it mean or would be at. At last he began to think that the source and secret of this ghostly light might be in the adjoining room, from whence it seemed to shine. He got up softly and shuffled in his slippers to the door.

'I'm having the words, now shush.' A Hodges-like voice said.

'Sure, you always want to have the word, don't you?' A Greg-like voice responded, sounding a bit insulted.

The Hodges putted his finger to his mouth as a shush position, 'I think he's watching us.'

'Don't expect me to kiss and cuddle up only because he does.' You could hear the sarcasm in the Greg's voice.

'Uhum,' Ecklie made this sound as he slowly opened the door.

'Come in, Conrad Ecklie.' The Hodges sounded really professional now.

It was his own room. There was no doubt about that. But it had undergone a surprising transformation. The walls and ceiling were so hung with living green, that it looked a perfect grove. Headed upon the floor to form a kind of throne, were turkeys, geese, game, sucking pigs, long wreaths of sausages, mince-pies, plum puddings, cherry-cheeked apples, immense twelfth-cakes and seething bows of punch, that made the chamber dim with their delicious steam. In easy state upon this couch, there sat two jolly ghosts- imagine a Hodges and a Greg ghost-, glorious to see, who bore a glowing torch – both of them - , in shape not unlike Plenty's horn, and held it up, high up, to shed its light on Ecklie, as he came peeping round the door.

'Come in, come in, and know me better, man! We are the Ghost of Christmas Present.' Both the ghosts said, though the Hodges sounded more enthusiastic, while the Greg said it as if he had read it up from a note.

'Oh, you still seem so sad and harsh.' The Hodges said. Ecklie just looked at him as if he was a complete moron. As usual. 'Oh, dear. The Ghosts of a Christmas Past forgot to show you the happy parts of your past, haven't they?'

'Does he even have those? Maybe they didn't forget, maybe there just wasn't something to show.'

'Oh, shut up.'

'So, what do you suggest, Mr. Brains?'

'Wé show a short part?'

'Deal. B-man wouldn't mind.'

'B-man?' Ecklie asked, wondering about who that B-man must be.

'Yeah, but that doesn't matter. Let's see how we're going to fix this…' the Greg looked on a small note, 'Touch his robe.' And he pointed towards Hodges.

Ecklie sighed, but did as he was told, and held it fast. All vanished instantly, the room, the fire, the ruddy glow, the hour of night and they stood on the property of an Land House, on an early Christmas morning. They walked to a window, and while the Greg just leaned against the side of the window, the Hodges made sure Ecklie saw what was happening inside. He started the conversation.

'Do you know this place?'

'Know it? Why, I was brought up here,' Ecklie looked inside, and for one moment it felt as if his heart grew. 'It's my father, my mother and I. Sitting at the Christmas tree opening presents, showing how much we care about each.'

'A small matter to make these silly folks so full of gratitude.'

'Small?'

'Only thing that's needed is being together, and a few dollars of your mortal money.'

'Happiness is just as great as if it costs a fortune. It is, it's…'

'What's the matter?' a small grin appeared on Hodges' ghostly face.

'Nothing, nothing particular.'

'Something, I think?'

'No, no, no. I'm just thinking of the crime rates, that's all.' At the moment Ecklie said that, a snowball hit his face.

Apparently the Greg had stood up and decide to use its ghostly power to make and throw a snowball. 'Haven't you learned anything at all? Good grieves, I'm starting to think you really have no heart at all. Just when I thought you were finally understanding the whole meaning of all of this, you start talking about crime rates again. Hodges, I think we'd better continue and go to the Present. This has no use at all, no use I say.'

Hodges nodded, and Ecklie wanted to protest, but he was too late. Hodges had laid his hand upon Ecklie's shoulder and again everything changed as soon as it had appeared. The room they now stood in was the break room of the crime lab. It had all Christmas needed; a tree, some lights here and there, it was decorated as an collage of a store. There was even a mistletoe.  
But the atmosphere in it wasn't as fun as it used to be.  
_You could see all the six CSI's sitting around the break room table, staring bored at a pile of presents on it. The lab rats joined them not a few minutes later, but a smile had not appeared on their faces._

_'Why am I having the feeling this year will be exact the same as last year?' Nick asked. _

'Because it ís the same,' Catherine started, 'And it won't change.'

'Now, come on you guys. Be happy. We still have each other. Let's open up the presents fast and then get back to the cases before Ecklie notices we are here.' Grissom said, trying to get the spirit back in his team.

'Gil, you of all people should know I rather spend time with Lindsey also around the time called CHRISTMAS.'

'I know, I know,' Grissom nodded sadly, 'But we have no choice at the moment. Next year, call in sick.'

'Ugh,' Catherine mocked about some more stuff while everyone opened their presents and thanked their secret Santa's.

'Now you guys, back to work, otherwise we'll get that Crime Rates humbug from Conrad again.'

Everyone left, except for Grissom and Henry. Henry just stayed sitting where he sat. Grissom raised his eyebrow and sat down next to him, 'Is there something wrong, Henry?'

'Well…' Henry sighed, but then he started telling a story about his little brother. Even if his brother was 24 by now, he was still little in his eyes, but as he was telling Grissom what was wrong, tears were falling down his face, 'And now Ecklie forbid me to leave with Christmas to visit him, and my family, in Kentucky. This might be his last Christmas as well, as we have no money to get the bests.'

_'Henry…' Grissom tried, but Henry nodded, said a little 'its okay', and walked away. __Grissom pouted his lips and then stood up himself, going for Conrad Ecklie's office, but he noticed he wasn't there. _

'The bastard…'

'Crime rates.' Ecklie muttered. 

'Conrad Ecklie, get yourself a new heart!'

'Sanders, I don't think that'll change him much. He only believes in brains.'

'I'm afraid that's true. Conrad Ecklie, you should be ashamed of yourself. You really have no feelings at all? Did Henry's story didn't affect you at all?'

'Henry just uses it as a lame excuse to celebrate an idiot-'

'Henry didn't make up a lame excuse, it was the truth.' The Hodges ghost seemed pissed, 'And you know it. But you didn't want to let him go. You didn't want him to have the fun _you_ could have had if it all didn't end as it does now.'

'Crime Rates.'

Both the Hodges and the Greg putted their hands on one of Ecklie's shoulders. Again the room disappeared as soon as it had appeared. They continued their trip. Much they saw and far they went, and many homes they visited, but always with a happy end. The Spirits left their blessing and taught Conrad his precepts. It was a long night, if it were only a night; but Ecklie had his doubts of this, because the Ghosts grew older, clearly older. Ecklie had observed this change, but never spoke of it, until looking at the Spirits as they stood together in an open place, he noticed that their hair were gray and both had grown a beard. A beard that was sure wilder then Grissom's beard has ever been, but not like Santa's.

'Are spirit's lives so short?' _  
_  
The ghosts looked at each other and they both actually laughed. The Hodges and Greg laughed. 'Nice beard, mate.'

'Well thank you Sanders.' And there were more hysterical laughs.

Ecklie, not getting it, said annoyed, 'I asked something serious and all you do is laugh at me.'

'Oh, sorry. I think we just forgot this fact of the story. Us growing older. Hodges actually looks pretty groovy!'

'Thanks, Sanders. You don't look that bad either. Anyways, as an answer on your question; our lives upon this globe is very brief. It ends tonight.'

'Tonight?'

'Tonight at midnight. The time is drawing near. Look, here!'

'Ah…. What, what are these?'

From the fold of the ghost's capes, there appeared one child in each. Wretched, abject, frightful, hideous, miserable. They clung upon the outside of the Ghosts' garments.

They were a boy and girl. Yellow, meager, ragged, scowling, wolfish, but prostate, too, in their humility. Where graceful youth should have filled their features out and touched them with its freshest tints, a stale and shriveled hand, like that of age, had pinched and twisted them!

'Spirits, are they yours?'

Both the ghosts started talking at the same time, 'They are Man's. And they cling to me, appealing from their fathers. This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both, but most of all beware this boy. I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased. Deny it! Slander those who tell you it must be!'

'Have they no refuge or resource?'

'Are there no prisons? Are there no workhouses? –'

Hodges stopped. 'Wait, he did not say that, did he?'

'No, he didn't.' Greg responded.

'Ah, well, we fore filled our part, didn't we?'

'B-man will be proud…'

'Yes. But we're going to die now. It was nice actually being nice to you, Sanders,'

'Same back.'

'Catch you later.'

'See ya.'

_Ecklie woke up. He looked about him for the ghost, and saw it not. He remembered the prediction of old Judge Cohen, and sighed. If this was all going to happen, then there was only one ghost left and he would be finished with this ridiculous dream…_

----

_Eeekkk! Almost finished, almost finished! Did you enjoy it? Anyways. See ya guys next chapter! _

Come on, I only have one review!  



	4. The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come

_4  
__**A Christmas Carol**___

Fourth Chapter, Third Christmas Ghost.

Thank you the ones who keep reading this whole plot of complete bullshit, it means a lot to me. Also, I thank the ones who reviewed :)!  
-----  
Ecklie woke up. He looked about him for the ghost, and saw it not. He remembered the prediction of old Judge Cohen, and sighed. If this was all going to happen, then there was only one ghost left and he would be finished with this ridiculous dream…

He looked at the alarm clock. He dreamed a lot, and still he'd swear that the time was still on '01:00', and unless he needed glasses, he read that correct. He closed his eyes, hoping this dream would be a bit better than all the remembering about his suck-ass past.  
_  
It didn't took long…_

For him to lift up his eyes. In front of him beheld a solemn Phantom, draped and hooded, coming like a mist along the ground, towards him. The Phantom slowly, gravely, silently approached. When it came near him, Ecklie bend down upon his knee for the very air through which this Spirit moved, seemed scatters, gloom and mystery. It was shrouded in a deep black garment, which concealed its head, its face, its form and left nothing of it visible save one outstretched hand.

Ecklie decided to just play the game and tried to remember what Ebenezer Scrooge said in a Christmas Carol the first time he saw this phantom.

'I am in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas yet to come? You are about to show me the shadows of things that have not yet happened, but will happen in the time before us? Is that so, Spirit? Ghost of the Future, I fear you more than any spectre I have seen. But as I know your purpose is to do me good and as I hope to live to be another man from what I was, I am prepared to bear you company, and do it with a thankful heart. Will you not speak to me?'

It gave him no reply. The hand was pointed straight before them.  
Ecklie had to think a few minutes once again.

'Lead on! Leas on! The night is waning fast, and it is precious time to me, I know. Lead on, Spirit.'

He heard a familiar laugh coming from under the garment, but the Phantom moved away as it had come towards him. Ecklie followed in the shadows of its dress, which bore him up, he thought, and carried him along. The city seemed spring up about them. And there they were, in the heart of it. The spirit stopped beside a few cops talking to some lab directors.

_'I don't know much about it either way. I only know he is dead.'_

'When did he die?'

'Last night, I believe.'

'Why, what's the matter with him? I thought he'd never die.'

'The Crime Rates killed him.'

'Beg your pardon?'

'The crime rates.'

'How can Crime Rates kill someone?'

'You know how addicted he was too Crime Rates. Well, one night he turned mad. He tried to kill his so called clerk, Judy, and after that his employee, Gilbert Grissom.'

'Say that again? Are you telling the truth?'

'Yes, but the cops were there on time…'

'What has he done with his job?'

'He has not left it to me. That's all I know. It's likely to be a very cheap funeral, for upon my life I don't know anybody who'll go to it. Suppose we make up a party and volunteer?'

'I don't mind going if a lunch is provided.'

'Well, I am the most disinterested among you, after all, for I never wear black gloves and never eat lunch. But I'll offer to go, if anyone else will. When I come to think of it, I am not at all sure that I was not his most particular friend, for we used to stop and speak whenever we met.'  
  
Ecklie knew the men and looked towards the Spirit for an explanation. Again, he heard a soft laughing sound, before it glided into a street. It's finger pointed to two persons meeting.

_'How are you?'_

'Very fine. The Crime Rates man finally got himself, hasn't he?'

'So am I told. Cold, isn't it?' – that he says while he lives in Vegas wearing a t-shirt with a think jacket on -.

'Seasonable for Christmas.'

'True. Oh well, Good morning.'

'Good morning.'

'Spirit! Merciful heaven, what is this? Have the no heart?'

The phantom now even had a more hard time trying to keep in _her_ laugh. Ecklie only recoiled in terror, for the scene had changed, and now he almost touched a bed, a bare iron bed. It was cold. Beneath a ragged sheet there lay something covered up, which, though it was dumb, announced itself in awful language. Ecklie glanced towards the Phantom. It's steady hand pointed towards the head. The cover was so carelessly adjusted that the slightest raising of it, the motion of a finger upon Ecklie's part, would have disclosed the face. 

'Spirit, this is a fearful place. In leaving it, I shall not leave its lesson, trust me. Let us go.'

Still the ghost pointed with an unmoved finger to the head.

'I understand you, and I would do it, if I could. But I have not the power, Spirit, I have not the power.'

Again it seemed to look upon him. The Phantom spread its dark robe before it for a moment like a wing, but before she could withdraw it again, someone came into the room.  
_  
'Let's see.' Doctor Robbins had just walked into his morgue, making himself ready for yet another autopsy. He pulled away the ragged sheet and David Philips walked in, too. 'Ah, Conrad Ecklie. Finally fate has got him.'_

'Yes,' David nodded, 'but why are we having him here? Don't we already know the cause of death?'

'Yes, we do. But people were wondering whether he had a heart or not, so we're going to check that.'

The Phantom sighed. It was a big sigh. It pulled away it's hood, and spoke. 'This was NOT the plan!'

Ecklie remembered that voice too well. He was looking at the iron table and the two coroners first, but immediately looked towards the Phantom he feared much. He saw some familiar red-blond hairs.

'C-Catherine?'

The 'Catherine' looked towards Ecklie, 'Don't call my name! I'm not supposed to be talking to you.'

'What is this for a sick joke?'

'This is not a joke, look at the table and you WILL see your face, your body, your heart. If you have one.'

'It's just a doll.'

'No, it's not.'

'Yes, it is.'

'Well, if it's a doll, I suggest you try and feel on the inside of it.'

Ecklie doubted, but took small passes towards the table. He slowly stuck out his hands, but then Catherine began to laugh, again.

'Oh, you moron. How do you think you'll be able to touch the inside of yourself it this world is yet to be on touched? You can't touch them. Try hitting Al.'

He first didn't believe it, but when he tried hitting Al Robbins, his hand 'fell' right through him, causing himself to fall. The Catherine couldn't stop laughing.

'Cath-'

'Not my name at the moment.'

'Spirit,'

The Catherine nodded.

'I beseech you. Let me see some tenderness connected with a death or this dark chamber will be forever present to me. 

Again, the Phantom, or Catherine, spread its dark robe before it for a moment like wing and withdrawing it revealed a room in the crime lab.

_There had been made an small altar, with some pictures of a young man. Flowers were around his picture, and most of the crime lab people, though they did not knew him, stood around it, with one person in the middle. Henry. _

'My little brother,' Henry sighed. He then turned around to the crowd. '… I'm glad you made this to honor him, it does me much. I feel that here are my true friends.'

'Spirit, tell me, are these the shadows of things that will be or the shadows of things that may be only?'

'Heck, how should Í know? Work and find out,' The Phantom made attempts to go away, but first turned back, 'Oh, and if you wake up, call Gil, will you? You're going to give me free time so that I can spend time with Lindsey._  
backtopresentbacktopresentbacktopresentbacktopresent_

'Aaahh!' He opened his eyes – no, he did not look in the mirror causing him to scream-.__

Ah, yes the bedpost was his own, the bed was his own, the room was his own.

'I am at home,' Best and happier of all, the time before him was his own to make amends in. 'Oh, Judge Cohen. Heaven and Christmas Time be praised for this! I say it on my knees, old Judge, on my knees! Here, I am here, the shadows of the things that would have been, may be dispelled. They will be. I know they will. Oh, I don't know what do to. I'm as light as a feather, I am as happy as an angel, as merry as a schoolboy, as giddy as a drunken man. A Merry Christmas to everybody! Say suck to those Crime Rates!'

-----------

_Last chapter will be about how Ecklie settle things right. Maybe I messed this chapter up, but that's because I'm pretty tired, but I just felt like finishing this ghost.  
Last chapter will also contain Grissom again. You'll see, muahah.  
I'm not sure if I'll put it up this last Christmas day, tho. If not, we'll just call tomorrow a third Christmas day, shall we?_

Write you later!  



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